


shopping trips and important conversations

by smolalienbee



Series: trans guys and romantic relationships [4]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Comfort, Connor & North (Detroit: Become Human) Friendship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gender Dysphoria, Gender Issues, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Human Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Human North (Detroit: Become Human), M/M, Making Up, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary North, Slice of Life, Talking, Trans Character, Trans Connor, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Trans Hank Anderson, Trans Male Character, Walking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 04:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19899676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolalienbee/pseuds/smolalienbee
Summary: While on a shopping trip with North, Connor gets a message from Hank. The two of them go on a walk and have some important conversations.





	shopping trips and important conversations

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go again, with yet another chapter! And while we're at it, you can now check out a music playlist I made for this series (because I have no chill and love music playlists), you can find the link to it in the series description

Connor trudged through the aisles, dragging his feet with every move. Clothes racks surrounded him, North followed right behind him. It was their turn to tag along with Connor. Shopping trips were never fun for either of them, with Connor straight up refusing to do it on his own.

“I keep telling you, you can get this stuff online,” North muttered.

A sign above their heads cheerfully directed them to two gendered sections. Connor immediately turned right, straight to where men's clothes supposedly were.

“I can never get the sizes right.”

Realistically, few people around them cared which section they were in, but Connor still felt watched. And not just by North. It was such a silly feeling, something he could never quite get over.

“Returns /are/ a thing. There are these funky subscription clothes services now. Some of them are kinda expensive, though.”

Connor hummed, absent-minded. It wasn't much of a conversation they were having. Just a way to fill the silence and drown out the voices of other customers. That and the voices in their own heads. Connor stopped in front of a line of pants, pouting at the wide selection. He didn't care about the particular shade of jean blue or how torn up they were. The amount of designs was, to put it simply, overwhelming.

“...so how are things with Hank?”

After a small lull in their conversation, North decided it was time to speak up again. Connor thumbed through the pants, the corner of his mouth twitching at the name.

“We haven't talked since that time at the bar.”

“Seriously? Nothing? Not even a text?”

He shook his head, pausing by one of the pairs. Too big, probably. He shoved them aside, kept on searching.

“I wasn't sure what to say and he didn't reach out, either,” he explained, “It's only been a couple of days, it's not a big deal.”

North hummed in understanding. They pulled another pair off the rack and showed it to Connor. He looked them over, then nodded, taking the pants from North. He hung them loosely on his arm, continuing his previous motions.

“I've been wondering about something,” he spoke again.

“Yeah?”

“What... he's really struggling with something,” he said slowly, looking over at North. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “Ever since I've first met him, even when he's in a good mood, there's still... something. I wanted to bring it up with him, but there's never been a good occasion.”

He sighed, turning back to the rack. North nodded, he could see the movement of their head from the corner of his eye. They seemed to look for the right words before they spoke up.

“Hank's... Hank,” North said, punctuating their words, “He's gruff and grumpy, he has an incredibly kind heart but has no goddamn clue how to show it. He drinks too much, he keeps people at a distance. I'm actually shocked he's been letting you get so close.”

Connor grabbed a few other pairs and let them all hang on his arm. North idly nudged the hangers back and forth.

“I can't be the only one who's close to him. We're not even /that/ close.”

He took a step away from the rack and waited for North before walking down the aisle again.

“I mean, he's been at the support group even before I first showed up and I don't know much about him, if that tells you anything,” North spoke, shoving their hands into their pockets, “I don't think anyone in the group knows much about him. I know he has some work collegues and stuff, but I'm pretty sure that's about it. The closest one to him is probably his dog.”

“Do you think he's always been like this?”

“Well, everyone changes and all that. I used to beat up all your bullies and now I'm a proper adult who steers away from violence.”

Connor suddenly stopped walking. North nearly bumped into his back, raising an eyebrow at their friend. He glanced over his shoulder at them, his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

“That is not true. You'd still physically hurt someone if they were bullying me.”

They briefly thought about arguing, but then they laughed and shrugged in an exaggerated way. Connor rolled his eyes, moving forward once more.

“Alright, bad example. Here's a better one: you used to be this prim nerdy kid who never broke any rules and now you're a true rebel, all because of my good influence.”

They lightly punched Connor's back, coaxing a quiet laugh out of him.

“Sure,” he agreed simply, “But we're talking about Hank, not me.”

“I dunno what you want me to tell you, Con. I really don't know much. If you wanna know what got him so miserable, you should probably ask him. I imagine he does have some tragic backstory, because who doesn't.”

By that time, they reached the changing rooms. There was no line, fortunately. Trying the clothes on in the store was one of the worst parts of shopping, at least in Connor's opinion. Waiting in a queue, with other people standing around, all awkward, didn't make the experience any better.

“Do you think he'll tell me?” Connor asked, stopping in front of one of the rooms, wanting to finish their conversation before he'd go in.

North shrugged. They leaned against the wall, already preparing themselves to wait for Connor. Better not to let anyone walk in on him.

“Probably not, at first. But you're stubborn, I think you can get through to him.”

Connor thought about that for a second, then nodded as if he made his mind up about something. Without another word, he disappeared behind the fitting room curtains, leaving North to hum a simple tune to themselves as they waited.

* * *

“Here's the thing – she is hot. But she's taken and I don't think either of them is poly.”

“You should've started with that. I didn't know she's in a relationship.”

North waved their hand, not bothered by the situation they were currently recalling to Connor. They walked side by side, through the middle of the shopping mall, eager to get out of there. Neither of them felt like they fit in with the crowd there, so they were more than happy to not stick around.

“I have more important things to worry about than girls, anyway. Pride's getting closer, so Markus' been needing my help with a lot of stuff. That and I've picked up another shift at work.”

Connor nodded. He kept his eyes on his feet as they talked. They didn't have much time lately to catch up so this occasion was as good as it could get.

“And what about you, hot shot? How's your tech life been treating you?”

“I'm pretty sure they'll fire me.”

“Well, good! That place's been awful for you anyway.”

“The money's been nice, though.”

“I'm sure someone better will pick you up. Or, hell, you could do freelance, couldn't you? You've always wanted to do your own thing, that's a way to do it.”

Connor shrugged. Work had always been a struggle for him, no matter if he enjoyed it or not. He'd rather avoid the topic, that was easier than coming face to face with his problems. He'd figure it out, somehow, he thought, he just wasn't sure when. Or how.

He was about to answer when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He closed his mouth, reaching to fish it out of his own pocket.

_**RECEIVED (1) NEW MESSAGE** _

_**from: Hank, you are being rude.** _

hey you got any free time? Today maybe?

Connor squinted at his own phone and looked up as he felt North bumping into his shoulder. They were trying to look at the screen, completely disregarding any rules of privacy. He didn't mind, but he still elbowed them lightly. They laughed, stumbling away from him.

“See, he's reaching out now. Here's your chance to ask about his dark past.”

Connor rolled his eyes, but didn't respond, opting to type a message back instead.

_**NEW MESSAGE** _

_**to: Hank, you are being rude.** _

I do, yes. Would you like to meet up?

_**Hank, you are being rude.:**_ yeah. I feel like we should talk

_**Hank, you are being rude.:**_ you wanna take Sumo on a walk with me?

_**puppy eyes man 2.0:**_ That sounds good. I'll head on over to your place, if that's okay.

_**Hank, you are being rude.:**_ yeah, come by anytime, it's my day off. See you

Still looking over Connor's shoulder, North giggled and raised their eyebrows. Connor turned his head, giving them a questioning looking.

“What's up with those names? I assume Hank's your idea and yours is his.”

“He /was/ being rude. He was making fun of my eyes.”

When Connor pocketed his phone, North finally pulled back. They still looked amused.

“By calling them puppy eyes? Pretty sure that's more of a compliment than anything else, but you do you, I guess.”

Connor pressed his lips together. He didn't want to tell North that Hank made it very clear it was a compliment. He was already embarrassing himself enough, his friend didn't need to know all the details. Feeling North's eyes on his face, he glanced over at them.

“What is it, North?”

“Nothing, nothing. I'm just glad you two are gonna talk. Need me to drive you over there?”

“Yes, I'd appreciate it,” he said with a nod. “Thank you, North.”

“You thank me too much, man. Come on, you don't want to keep him waiting.”

With that, they headed over to North's car. Connor could feel his phone burning a hole in his pocket, he was itching to ask questions already. _How are you, why did you message me today, I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner._

It was just a few days, he reminded himself. They were okay. They were going to talk and they were going to be okay.

He slid into the seat and relaxed, seeing the comforting smile North was giving him.

* * *

Sumo trotted happily in front of the two of them, wagging his tail back and forth. He had been ecstatic at the sight of Connor, ecstatic to have some other company. Perhaps he noticed how his owner's face lit up at the sight of Connor. Now, they were making their way down Hank's street, through the neighbourhood. Cars occassionally passed them by, splashing puddles onto their feet. They were silent, for a while, and Connor couldn't decide how to feel about it. He wasn't used to being so quiet while around Hank, they usually spent their time idly chatting about whatever came to mind. It was Hank who eventually broke the silence. His eyes still trained on Sumo's back, he cleared his throat.

“So, how have you been doing?”

Connor looked over at him, expecting to catch his gaze. When he didn't, though, he looked away, trailing the lines of the sidewalk with his eyes instead.

“...better,” he said, a hint of hesitation in his voice. Hank nodded.

“Did you talk to North?”

“Yes, I did.” At that point, Connor could see Hank's eyes on the side of his head. He looked up to meet them and gave him a gentle smile. “That night, I did talk to them. They... did their best to help.”

Hank's expression was unreadable, but he appeared to be content with Connor's response. There was a small pause, as if he was debating something. Making up his mind, he opened his mouth.

“And about your brother?”

Connor shrugged. Following Sumo's lead, they turned right, onto a small path leading into a park. Someone ran past them, their breath heavy as they jogged on.

“We didn't talk. But that's okay.”

“What he asked you, that... doesn't seem okay to me,” Hank huffed, shoving his hands into his pocket.

His expression showed all sorts of dissatisfaction with Connor's brother. Connor sighed, looking to the side as Sumo ran around a bench.

“He's worried about me,” he explained, “I know he didn't mean anything bad by it. He just doesn't know how to help. He's doing his best, though.”

Hank pressed his lips together, but Connor's response placated him enough. He didn't try to argue.

Sumo circled the bench again and let out a small bark, looking at them expectantly. Hank and Connor exchanged looks, catching onto the dog's intentions. They approached the bench and sat down next to each other. Sumo pushed his muzzle into their hands before running off into the grass, as if to give them some space and privacy. Hank folded his hands, put his elbows on his knees then leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. Connor, prim and proper as always, sat with his back straight, hands folded neatly in his lap. His fingers twitched, he was fighting an urge to move them around.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“What? “ Hank, out of the corner of his eye, glanced over at him. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, looking away.

“Hank,” Connor's tone was insistent, his eyes crinkling on the sides with the intensity of his gaze.

Hank sighed heavily, unfolding his hands so that he could run a hand through his beard.

“I'm better, okay?”

Connor wasn't convinced, not at all. There was a moment when it seemed like he was going to let go of the topic, but being himself, he simply couldn't. Just like North said, he was stubborn when he wanted to be. And this, he cared quite a bit about. He wasn't going to let go of Hank so easily.

“Did something... happen? That day?”

His fingers twitched again. Hank turned with his whole upper body, just to get a better look at his companion. He shook his head and reached out. He placed his hand on top of both of Connor's, hoping to get him to loosen up his grip.

“No, no, it's not... not like that.”

Connor's fingers slowly untagled. He pulled his hands out from under Hank's, then smoothed his fingers over Hank's skin. They both kept their eyes down on Connor's lap. The contrast between their hands was stark. Both a pleasant detail and a reason for something painful to catch in Connor's throat.

“Did something happen /before/ that day?” Connor's voice was a soft murmur.

Their conversation was briefly interrupted by Sumo's sudden barking. The dog trotted up to them and tossed a stick in their direction, its bark covered in slimy dog saliva. Leaning down to pick it up, Hank made a disgusted face. Sumo barked once more and his owner relented, throwing it not too far from them. While the St Bernard happily ran to get it, Hank wiped his hand off on his jeans. He made sure only his clean hand remained in Connor's grip.

“You know, sometimes I...” he spoke, brushing his thumb carefully over Connor's knuckles, “...miss the times when I was your age. Or when I was younger than you and I was going through the transition. Back then, that... that was the biggest of my issues, that people didn't see me as who I was. It was... horrible. I... it was fucking horrible. But, in hindsight... I wish I could go back to that.”

Connor gaped at him. Several questions were running through his head and he wasn't sure where to begin. He didn't think anyone could ever miss something as difficult, as confusing as the time of their transition. As their twenties or early thirties, in their specific case. But then again, he didn't hear many stories of what comes after.

“You miss it?” he asked, for confirmation, squeezing Hank's hand lightly.

Hank ran his tongue over his front teeth, looking out onto the park as he thought about his response.

“Not exactly,” he finally said, “But... a lot of shit happened afterwards. I guess part of being human is that you're never truly happy.”

Connor remained silent. He didn't want it to be true, but he couldn't find any arguments against it. He had been alive long enough to realize that even on the best of days, there was something there. He was never far enough from falling apart completely. Hank seemed to be the same way.

While thinking, Connor's expression must've changed several times because eventually, Hank tugged at his hand to get his attention.

“I can see you want to say something.”

Connor blinked himself back to reality and looked over at him.

“Can I ask you a... personal question, Hank?”

Hank let out a breathless laugh in response.

“You ask me plenty of personal questions all the time. But shoot.”

“You lost someone, didn't you?”

It was like the question was knife, slicing the air to turn the mood into a sour one. Hank's laughter was gone and there wasn't even a ghost of it left. A gust of wind blew in their faces and Connor shivered. Hank tipped his head back, a shuddering breath slipping past his lips.

“We've all lost someone. I think you know that, kid.”

“But-”

“Yeah, I did. I fucking did.”

Hank closed his eyes. His eyelids tightly shut, as if to shield himself or perhaps keep something from escaping. His grip on Connor's hand loosened considerably.

“Who?”

“My family,” Hank let out a long, painful sigh. It was a thin ice they were threading upon, “And it wasn't as simple as 'We don't accept you for who you are'. It was worse.”

“Are they...” _Dead? Gone?_ The question hung off Connor's lips, unspoken, but clear.

Hank opened his eyes, carefully, but didn't look at him. He stared off into the distance, his expression taking on that tiredness. Something that Connor remembered from the night at the bar. Like a man who had lived through many, many lifetimes. In a way, perhaps he did.

“One of them, yeah,” he said honestly, his voice far from where they were at the moment, “The other one left because I couldn't fucking deal with it. She deserved... better. I'm glad she left.”

Connor swallowed thickly, bowing his head. He tangled their fingers and squeezed Hank's hand with as much strenght as he could muster. He felt Hank squeezing back.

“I'm sorry.”

“It's why it's just Sumo and me now,” Hank continued, the same taste of bitterness in his voice, “She couldn't take him, so he stayed. He's... what kept me from falling apart completely. I care about him more than I do about myself.”

“I care about you.”

Connor's eyes were bright and honest as he looked at Hank with those words falling out of his mouth.

Hank turned his head towards him. His entire face softened at the simple genuity of Connor's statement.

“I know you do. I don't know why, but I know you do.”

With that, Hank snaked his hand out of Connor's grip and reached up to his face. He cupped the side of it then leaned forward, closer and closer. His lips quickly found their way to Connor's forehead. He pressed a small kiss there, lingered, then pulled away in one, quick motion. Leaving Connor with the touch still buzzing on his skin, he stood up with a small grunt.

“We should go back,” he said, looking over his shoulder at him. Connor nodded, quiet as he also got on his feet.

“Sumo, come on!”

With the sun low in the sky, shining on their backs in its reds and yellows, Connor and Hank walked forward, down the same path as before. There was still a lot on their minds, a lot that they hadn't gone over. A lot that they had learned about each other or more precisely, a lot that Connor had learned about Hank. Another puzzle piece along with more questions arising. Another step closer to each other.


End file.
